The Cold Husband Novels & Stories

Isti tried to understand and support her husband, but more and more he became distant and cold towards her. One night, while the wife was waiting for her husband to come home from work, she saw something that broke her heart. Her husband came home with another woman, they were laughing and joking at the door. Isti felt like she had been stabbed by a sharp knife, as if her world had collapsed in an instant.

His words are heavily drenched in his accent. "You'll never get the opportunity to find out," A deep voice booms through the restroom and instantly I sigh with relief. "If you want to survive long enough to at least attempt to hurt me. I suggest you let my wife go or I will put two bullets into the back of your fucking head you Italian scum." My husband's voice is cold, calculating and full of fury. Castello's eyes never leave mine and he sighs, "Pitty, I was hoping to take your wife for a test drive myself. Since I'm about the only man she hasn't spread her legs for." He growls with his breath fanning my face.

But best friends also help by riding their husband’s cock and swallowing his cum so he doesn’t go crazy from neglect, I thought, the dirty secret making my pussy throb again. That was when Killian came downstairs. He was dressed in grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips and no shirt, his broad chest and defined abs on full display. My mouth went dry instantly. Dirty thoughts flooded my head — memories of his thick cock stretching my throat, pounding my pussy, his hands gripping my hips as he ruined me. I could still feel the ache between my legs, the faint soreness that reminded me exactly how well he had fucked me. Molly smiled brightly. “Melia, this is Killian… my husband. I’m sorry he

I was accompanying my mother-in-law to our family-owned hospital for a follow-up appointment. She had developed a lifelong gynecological condition from complications during my wife's birth. A muscular man passed by, recoiled in disgust, and shuffled to the other side of the aisle before shouting for a nurse. "What kind of hospital is this? You just let any filthy person sit in the waiting area? This old hag reeks. Is nobody going to do anything about it?" The nurse hurried over and recognized my mother-in-law. She held up her hands. "Sir, this patient is here for a scheduled follow-up. We can't turn her away." The man lost it. "What part of that don't you understand? Take this old hag

He winked at her with a playful smirk. "And why would I believe you? Why would my husband ask someone like you to pick me up? What is the proof?" His smirk widened and his pupils dilated, Lily noticed and got goosebumps the second she did. “Someone like me? What does that exactly mean sweetheart?" His hand brushed a strand out of Lily's face. She flinched and moved back, the man held her thighs and pulled her towards him. "I don't give a damn if you believe me or not, that is not my job, but I feel too sorry for you, imagine having a husband who sells you to a mafia for a week to enjoy with his side chick. Doesn't that sound pitiful ?"

She didn’t like the way her husband was admiring her but didn’t have the nerve to say it and kept tugging on his sleeves. “Trust me, she can’t afford it. She’s just some nerd from school.” Avery realized that Riley wasn’t proud of her husband but even Avery was speechless to see her with such a man. The guys Riley dated were usually hot and rich. This man seemed like he was rich but wasn’t attractive to the eyes. Had she been married all along? Avery was speechless but it was good to not be the only young one married, though Riley was at least two years older than her.

I felt like I was holding an ice cube. He gently shook his head. I don't know why my husband is doing this? Why is he acting like this? I can't understand him! He took away my hand that was holding his face. Anger appeared in his eyes. But he is still cold and emotionless. No! He looked into my eyes. Sadness appears through his eyes towards me. My husband is very cold. I can't feel him. He's changing with me. "From now on! Let's divorce. I want to file a divorce paper with you Clara. You don't need me in your life."

The man steps in like he owns the goddamn room, my breath stops and I can barely suck in any oxygen because it feels like he has sucked it all out of the room. “That’s Dr. Ian Quinn. Your husband.” he repeats. I frown. “My husband?” My brows draw tighter. “Why would I have such a cold insufferable man as my husband?” I hate how he looks at me with so much coldness. I saw how he hesitated to stay when he was asked to. My heart boils at the pity in their eyes. I hate the way they're looking at me like a charity case because of my incubator and sperm donor's greed.

He humbly respected my opinion and offered me this heavy duvet to cover myself from the cold while he slept there with nothing to cover himself. I am blushing so hard right now, for his kind gesture. Mr. Cold my Husband you are such a Darling. The only thing that gives me the wrong impression about you in the first place is your muscular build with your intense green eyes that seem to impose a cold demeanor on you and also seem to be scaring people around you.

“You’re not alone. You never were. But if you keep pretending, you’ll drown before anyone can reach you.” Celina swallowed hard. For the first time in weeks, she felt something crack. “No, I did,” her father cut in, stepping forward. His voice was harder, older, filled with barely contained anger. “We heard from your cousin. Word’s spreading. This man you married—he has another wife? Another life?” Celina finally turned to face them, her eyes red but defiant. “I didn’t know.” “That’s not the point!” her father snapped, the sharp crack of his palm hitting the dining table reverberating through the room like a gunshot. The plates rattled, and so did Celina’s resolve.